An Abyss by Design
by Samurai-Kagome
Summary: Opens with ending scene of Thor. Loki is fast approaching the abyss, ready to accept his fate, when...what's this? Thor has decided he wants to tag along as well? And the abyss actually opens up to multiple dimensions? As Loki and Thor (and our favorite Avengers cast) are thrown into various worlds, can Loki forget his own void and finally learn to call Thor his own? No Slash.


**A/N: Ah, so here we are once again. Another story idea has tickled my fancy and I thought, "Well, hell, why not?" Also, I should clarify that the name of the story "An Abyss by Design" (for those of you who are wondering) does not refer to "An Abyss" and "by Design" separately. As in, my name is not "Design." Written alternatively, "An Intended Abyss" delivers the proper meaning.**

**And so, without further ado, here is the first chapter.**

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**Chapter 1: A Bewildering Development **

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His grip was slipping.

He clenched his teeth as he struggled to hold on, his legs dangling precariously in the abyss. But, then again, did he really want to hang on anymore? All was lost now anyway.

He had failed miserably, to put things lightly. And who was to blame but himself? He had become a true orphan now: not wanted by Laufey for being a Jotunn runt and seemingly disowned by Odin for conspiring against his precious and _rightful_ heir, Thor.

Pity, he could have brought true glory to Asgard.

"Loki…brother…hold on," he heard the blithering fool say from above him. "I've got you. I won't let go!"

Another surge of pure animosity mixed in with something he couldn't quite place (was that remorse? If it was, he'd sooner have his mouth threaded shut than admitting to such weak tendencies) overtook the confines of his chest. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to spit out any biting remarks nor settle his features into a look of unadulterated loathing.

He hated Thor. He hated him for being the chosen successor of their father. For strutting around aimlessly, with nothing to account for except that blasted hammer he wielded. For being as fickle as to falling in love with a mere Midgardian.

But, most of all, he hated Thor for still trying to save him after Loki had essentially tried to wipe his existence. Not just from Asgard but Midgard as well.

For, unfortunately, it did wonders on reincarnating those two annoying things he thought he'd done away with ages ago: his conscience and his heart. The last thing he wanted to be thinking about was that, perhaps, he was in the wrong; and, Odin forbid, he feel anything close to _sorrow_ right now.

Oh, he was in a pathetic state, indeed.

Uncertainty clouding his already-taut features, he moved his gaze past the concerted visage of the object of his frustrations to settle on the blurry image of his father.

His father…

No…he _had_ been his father. Now…now they were nothing more than mere pawns in this Asgardian game that pit power against deception. But even that thought wasn't enough to stop the jolt of pain that ran through him as he caught the aggrieved expression on his father's face. He had never seen such a look of utter despair.

What's more, he realized that everything had gone blurry because there were tears in his eyes. The "God of Lies and Mischief" was crying.

_Some do battles, others just do tricks. _

His brother's words, which seemed to be from a time long ago but, in reality, had been only a few days, rung loudly in his ears and he felt himself choking on the bile now rising in his throat. His "trick," motivated this time by not a simple need for entertainment but pure greed and jealousy, had gone too far. And if that sinking feeling in his chest attested to anything, it was that he was quickly coming to the realization of his consequences.

To the realization that… he _cared_. Cared enough to not lose the single thing that was important to him: his family. And the fact that all he wanted was to make his father as proud of him as he was of Thor.

His palms were growing moister and the grasp on the handle was quickly loosening. He saw Thor trying with all his power to pull him up, and with Odin, as old as he was, struggling to reinforce Thor. And, in that moment, he felt a strange compulsion to redeem himself; to explain why he had done what he had. To rectify the situation…to do _something_ that dissolved the look on his father's face. Now that he had succumbed to the more humane side of him, he was obligated to follow through with whatever foolish notions his mind and heart were conjuring up.

His lips parched and his pulse accelerating at a rate he thought impossible, he looked hopefully up at his father, opening his mouth to say the words that would finally end all of this and set things back to how they use to be. With him in the shadows and Thor illuminated in all his hardheaded glory.

Yes, to be in the shadows again…

And all of a sudden the words just came gushing out.

"I-I could have done it, father! I could have done it! For you! For all of us!" He shouted ardently, anguish soaking his voice and features. He felt his eyes widen a fraction as he realized what he had said. That hadn't come out how he had planned at all. He had meant to own up to his actions, to say he had been a fool and that he understood what he had done wrong.

For once, he had wanted to give in to the bothersome tendencies of those weak humans and just say, "I'm sorry."

And now, as he looked up once more, his heart gave another painful throb as he heard two words leave his father's lips.

"No, Loki…"

And that was enough for him to start letting go, subconsciously at first, but intentionally soon after as the words settled in deeper and deeper. A bitter smile graced his countenance as he loosened his hold. He wasn't wanted after all. It was obvious from the tone of his father's voice. He was just the unwanted bastard child of a Frost Giant, taken in by Odin because he pitied his wretched, abandoned state. Of course that didn't equate to him actually caring for Loki.

They were all better off if he just disappeared into the abyss. Into a world where they didn't need to "take care of him" and he didn't owe them anything. Of course, the abyss might permanently put an end to his existence but what did it matter if he was just another burden, right?

As a final, solitary tear made its excruciating journey down the side of his cheek, he turned to give his father and brother one last heartrending grin, before he completely let go of the hammer, letting the darkness swallow him.

Behind him, he heard the echoes of Thor's roar follow him into the recesses of space. "Loki…_no_!"

_Yes, silly brother, go back to your Asgard and rule with a foolish hand_, he thought bitterly. _Let me fade away into nothingness for that is the inescapable fate that seems to await me. _He couldn't decide whether he was relieved or apprehensive at the thought of disappearing into the looming black hole. Was he really ready to say goodbye to this world?

If he was to be honest, he felt positively terrified at the prospect of entering the chasm. Would he die, continue to float in perpetual blackness, or come out the other end into another dimension?

Perhaps he would—

A throbbing sensation overtook his right leg, causing him to break out of his inner monologue and look down in surprise. Something was glowing through the material of his armor. Well, not so much glowing as pulsating. And it seemed to be drawing him even closer to the entrance of the void.

Before he could reach down to inspect the object in question, a bulky weight latched onto him, dragging him down faster towards the impending abyss.

Considering it was a bit difficult to do a 180-degree turn in space, he craned his head as far as possible to see what vile thing had fastened onto him like a leech. What he saw left him momentarily speechless.

"Wh-what—" He managed to splutter.

"If you go, I go, brother," came Thor's deep, resonant voice from somewhere behind him.

And just when he had thought he'd gotten rid of the half-witted thorn in his side. Couldn't he just let him sulk in peace until he reached the chasm and was vortexed into oblivion? Did his numbskull of a brother have to steal his thunder (no pun intended) even with death imminent? Well, Thor (or as Loki liked to call him "Boar") would have no part in that; no, his death would not be marred by the presence of this…man-child.

"Let go, you great buffoon!" He hissed adamantly at him. "Go back to father, to Asgard, where you belong! That's what you wanted anyway, right? To be king of Asgard? To rule with that outrageously large fist of yours? _Well_?"

Well, this was something new. Carrying a conversation in mid-space, only moments away from death. But it wasn't like he could just go prancing off for a bit of tea and scones, now could he, considering he was about to be fodder for that lovely black hole looming ahead of him.

He couldn't see the Boar's face but when he heard his voice again, he could have sworn it was laced with…was that sincerity? "I do not care about being king. All I want is for our family to be together, happy like in the days long past. It is not the same if you're not there," Thor said in a quiet voice. "Come back home with me, brother. It is not too late—"

Loki, who had felt a weird sensation rise in his throat at the Boar's surprisingly earnest words, felt his temper now rise. "Now that's where you have it all wrong, dear _brother_. Or can I really call you brother? I am, after all, the son of a Frost Giant—"

"You _are_ my brother," Thor cut in firmly. "We grew up together—"

"_We are not brothers_!" Loki spat. "You were mistaken in believing I was ever _happy_; especially not with you constantly thrashing heroically all over the place—" It suddenly dawned on him that, with all his heated proceedings with the oaf, he had disregarded the pulsating glow that was now practically acting like a projectile and pulling him rapidly towards the void. As it drew nearer and nearer, it grew more and more heated until, finally, it became too much for him.

Already reeling from the events of what had taken place earlier, he felt his awareness grow hazy as he lost consciousness.

His last thought before he passed out was that it would have been nice to die somewhere surrounded by greenery instead of floating aimlessly in a bottomless pit with the man-child.

-0-0-0-

Something was digging painfully into the side of his ribcage.

Something cold and…rectangular…and made of medal.

It also seemed like a whole swarm of hands had taken a fancy to tickling his face as he felt a strong compulsion to sneeze.

He let out a disgruntled groan and shifted to his side, almost immediately regretting it as the harsh rays of light tried to penetrate his eyelids.

"Am I not allowed to lie in peace even in death?" He mourned pitifully. Although…the fact that he was aware of his surroundings and had been laying face-down on solid ground did nothing to support that he was dead. If he had entered that abyss as planned, he should either have exploded into smithereens or should be floating in a dark vacuum right now. Not having things poking him, tickling him, and certainly not random shafts of light trying to render him blind. Unless—

"You're as dead as my hammer is light," he heard someone say to the left of him. "Of course I can wield it since it is mine to wield but, for _you_, it would be impossible."

If he didn't know any better, that sounded uncannily like…

Loki let out a noise that dangerously resembled something like a sob (although he would deny it profusely if ever confronted).

Another sharp jab to his side had him bolting upright, brightly colored words spilling liberally from his lips as he massaged the, now sore, place under assault. He turned his piercing gaze to the offender in question and, with a sinking heart (funny, really, because he could swear he'd been born with a lump of coal in its place), confirmed his earlier suspicions.

There, sitting cross-legged in all his undignified red-caped glory, was The Boar. And, clutched in his hand, was the incriminating piece of evidence that had assaulted his poor ribcage only moments ago.

If ever there was an Asgardian disease, he was sure that this brute would be it because he sure as hell was clinging to Loki like one.

"Come, brother," Thor said, with an infuriating smile dancing on his lips, "you look like you've just been kissed by Volstagg! Are you not happy to see me?"

Loki just sat there, staring quietly and, if one looked closely, morosely at the eager demigod in front of him. And then, just as quietly, he lay back down on the ground, turning away from him and into a fetal position.

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**Ending note: Much of the first chapter you've seen before in the ending of **_**Thor**_**. But that's as "repetitive" as it gets. Also since **_**Thor**_** didn't offer much perspective as to what Loki was thinking, I thought I would give him more depth by making this story from his POV.**

**Another point I think I should add is while I would love to continue to write this story at lightning-fast speed, I can't guarantee I will. As you will notice, I'm not much for keeping up with updating stories. I will, however, tell you that this story isn't going to be decades long (which might help me to actually finish it). I wanted to write a piece that sheds more light on the relationship between Thor and Loki (**_**as brothers**_**) and thought this story would be the perfect way to achieve it. It'll be 15 chapters at most but 15 of the most action-packed chapters you will ever have come across.**

**Anyway, we'll be seeing some more beloved characters soon (and when I mean beloved, I mean loved-across-all-realms). **

**So, if you're willing to be patient and see how Thor and Loki will evolve then…press that "alert" button (please).**

**Also, please leave a constructive review because, I'll be honest: I'm a writer who composes for an **_**audience**_**. Not tumbleweeds, er, tumbling across a desert.**

**Thank you and see you in the next chapter! **

**-SK**


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